


It's raining

by PerahuKertas



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 11:24:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16094696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PerahuKertas/pseuds/PerahuKertas
Summary: Late work hours that night for Mark, little did he knows that it turned out a bit scarier for him, he heard a fainted singing sound, only to find a weak boy lay unconsciously on the dusty cold pavement beside the pastry shop.





	It's raining

Heavy rain out there. The clear water droplets like dew race down the window glass surface, ending in the wood-colored frame. Clouds that struggle darkly embrace the sky, covering the bright blueness that the landscape usually has.

The boy with the dark hair stared blankly at the window, staring at the needles of water that were guided by gravity. The black irises imply a vague desire for freedom; like the wind that accompanies the rain out there. In his lap there is a brownish yellow guitar, like the color of the guitar in general, with a missing string.

The boy let out a heavy breath, as if his spirit came out with carbon dioxide blowing from his respiratory tract.

His left hand fingers now position themselves on the neck of the guitar, pressing certain strings that he has memorized outside his head. Then the fingers of his right hand pick the strings gently, producing a series of regular tones with raindrops that almost meet the sense of hearing. The boy didn't care, his fingers danced nimbly on the neck of the guitar and the iris looked at his two busy hands, just before he sang a song.

_It's because I'm afraid of being hated_

_That I'm always acting nice_

_But inside, i'm not like that_

_Fake personality is bad_

_[But I keep on smiling event it's hurt]_

He plucked the bottom string several times, then moved his left hand to another string and plucked it. The boy did not even realize that the light from a car was reflected in the window pane of her room.

And that means a bad sign.

_My heart is whine in despair_

_I know that me now and the me from the past_

_is still the same, but_

_I'll be stronger than I used to be_

The boy's fingers, whose hands were small but he played the guitar skillfully, played the closing tones of the short songs of his own creation. The rustling of the rain was still the same as it was, noisy like a blurry television sound and full of two-dimensional black and white ants.

Faint, behind the rustling and the winds out there, there was a rush of footsteps and growl. But the figure of the guitar player boy didn't realize it. He stared at the ceiling of his room which was painted bright orange like the color of the sky at dusk. Trying to forget that around him now are things that make him desperate; books of math and social sciences.

A loud thump sounds like it breaks his door.

The sound of the door was violently broken. The petite boy turned surprised to the origin of the sound, remembering that he had locked the door of his room earlier. And he found that the door had been damaged by a bolt due to a rough and angry break from the perpetrator. The boy became more stunned when he realized who the batter was.

His father, Huang Junjie.

The boy's vision blurred for a second after his gaze met his father's gaze. His father looked very furious when he saw a single guitar on the boy's thigh. The black-haired boy was pale, his hands cooled and stiff on the side of her guitar.

"YOU INSOLENT KID!" the father grabbed the guitar from the boy's lap. "DIDN’T I TELL YOU, YOU HAVE TO FOCUS ON YOUR FUTURE, RENJUN?"

Another loud sound of the guitar breaking against the floor was heard.

The guitar that was bought with the savings money of the boy named Renjun was thrown into the corner of the room, especially what damage that would be suffered by the five-stringed object. The guitar master frowned in fear, avoiding the gaze of his father.

"I WILL NOT LET YOU TOUCH MUSIC LIKE YOUR LOATHSOME MOTHER!" his father snapped, now clutching Renjun's pajamas collar. "OR YOU ARE NOT A PART OF MY FAMILY AGAIN LIKE YOUR MOTHER!"

The father jerked the boy, stripped his collar from the grip and caused the boy to fall down onto the bed. The man then walked to the corner of the room, kicking the poor guitar which he had thrown a moment ago without thinking and stepped out of the room.

"I ..." the boy muttered something, as if to prevent his father from leaving, between the pain in his elbow that prevented his body from hitting the floor. "I love music ..., I ... I won't throw away my dream just for the sake of natural science that I can't even learn ..., I ..." the boy could feel his eyes heating up, then tears blurred his view . He then blinked both eyes, and his tears made a small path in his pale cheeks.

A hard slap on his cheek.

"YOU DARE TO FIGHT ME?" growled the man, looking sharply at his youngest child. "YOU ARE NOT A PART OF THIS FAMILY AGAIN! GET THE HELL OUT OF THIS HOUSE! OUT!"

And the boy was only resigned when he finally stood outside the terrace, was showered with rain and only armed with hIS broken guitar, a little clothes, and his loyal savings in his pocket.

 

000

 

_"I'm full of lackness, but ..., isn't it your fault after all? I'm ..., I'm ..."_

Since the expulsion from Huang's residence, the boy named Renjun walked uncertainly. He didn't know where to go, the guitar in his black case was damaged. The strings were only three and filled with blisters due to collisions with tables and floors. He trembled cold in a jacket that his father threw with a bag of other clothes on the terrace of the house a few days ago, which had soaked in a puddle of rain mixed with sand, which he then washed with rainwater that still flushed profusely.

The boy is now far from his home. Thank you for the allowance he saved for several months, which can be used to buy train tickets and eat several days. But still, the money won't be enough to rent a single-room apartment. He must endure sneaking sleep between narrow alleys that are rarely visited by people, occasionally waking up because of discomfort and anxiety.

But even so, he did not want to go home.

His father, Huang Junjie, is the owner of a large hospital in this town. Under these circumstances, he felt he had the right to make his two children, Xue and Renjun, to continue their business. Xue did succeed and was continuing his studies in this country best university, but Renjun who did not have sufficient ability in the natural sciences could do nothing.

The boy is more interested in music and art, and not human anatomy and medicine technology. It made his father furious with his youngest child. Renjun often experienced physical torture just because the value of his natural sciences was not in line with expectations, and since three or four months ago, his father did not allow him to touch music.

_Don't let him walk the same path as his mother_.

His mother, Jia, was a pianist and singer in her youth. Jia and Junjie got married through an engagement that had been designed by the families of both parties, causing a lack of love between them. When Renjun was in the fifth grade of elementary school, Jia was caught cheating and then sued for divorce Junjie.

The small boy sighed.

Renjun hugged his blue bag tightly. Inside are a few strands of clothing that are rather dirty. He doesn't know where else to go. He knows he can't live like this forever; living in simplicity that is almost close to being shaken. He needs shelter, under the roof of course. He...,

A tear dropped from the bead of Renjun's eyes. He buried his face in his bag, hiding his puffy face from the people passing by.

His cry now began to clear, he did not want to live like this. But how? If the guitar wasn't damaged ..., he would still be able to improve some of his financial side. Singing at the station maybe? But reality remains a reality. He can't imagine.

Even to return to carrying the name of Huang again, he should not expect it.

Secretly, he raised his face and traced his gaze around. He is in a green city park. Surrounding him are bushes which have a few boys picking fruit. Also some wooden benches occupied by visitors of various ages. But he is the only one who is alone. All boys of their age are holding partners or friends. But he is alone.

He wiped his tears. Then stand up straight and walk away from the place, dragging the guitar case. He doesn't care what people say about his messy appearance.

 

000

 

He found an alley next to a tantalizing sweet-smelling pastry shop.

Renjun entered the alley, there were some boxes, whatever they contained, but he could guess that they were none other than the ingredients of the cake ordered by the cake shop beside him. But at least, the crates would protect him from the sight of passing patrollers at night, arresting homeless people.

He placed his guitar case as quietly as possible and sat on the sides of the crates, then cleaned the cold stone floor with both hands, sober. After that, he spread his jacket to the mat and lay on it, staring at the night sky.

Half moon is clearly visible, like a big spotlight in space at that time, protruding between several visible star points. In this period of time, stars are rarely seen because they are less bright than the lights of urban lights. That's what Xue once told him first. The view of the night sky is indeed quite beautiful for him. But when he felt the cold caressing his skin, he could not survive without not shivering.

He bent his knees and turned to face the cake shop wall. Close his eyes, he tried comfortably in such circumstances. He can't live like that forever, but he will survive as much as possible.

"Thank you for the work today, Mark!" the blond haired man smiled, showing his dimples at the brown haired boy who was washing his hands in the sink. He turns around and reply to his smile.

"You're welcome, Jaehyun-hyung, tomorrow I will come again," he said, wiping the napkin to wipe his wet hands. The typical fragrance of hand-washing soap of the place came out; sweet apple aroma.

The blond haired man, Jaehyun, laughed softly and kindly. "Okay Mark," he said. "But actually I'm confused, why do rich people like you have to work part time all? You have a car, and a nice apartment room. Your life is financed by your sister in Korea. But why bother? Why not go to college like most student? Without part-time work, I mean. "

"Because I want to live independently, of course." replied the brunette, we just call it, Mark, responding to a barrage of questions from his co-worker. Jaehyun ignored but glanced at the white wall clock attached to the wall. Then realized something that crossed his mind.

"Ah, Mark... I'm sorry. Can you replace me with the kitchen today? I have an appointment with somone... I'll replace you on Saturday. I promise," he said. His usually soft tone of voice is now pleading. Mark glanced at his watch, which he considered more accurate than any clock, then nodded.

"Well, I still have two hours before the latest time to arrive at the apartment." the response. Jaehyun showed a smile of relief, not forgetting the ritual of stroking the chest.

"Thank you, Mark! Tomorrow I will give treats at Noire's cafe if my date succeed," he said quickly, winking. Mark only nods and smiled again. Jaehyun grabbed his coat and a moment later disappeared behind the door.

Mark put the napkin back on the aluminum hanger near the sink. Exhaling a heavy breath, he walked to the table in the middle of the kitchen of the cake shop where he worked to collect the cake pan again for washing. He also took the scales of baking ingredients that were covered in flour as usual. Their boss, Taeyong, is always careful about the cleanliness of the shop's kitchen equipment so that every morning, all equipment must be in a clean, shiny condition.

Mark washed the laundry with water flowing from the sink tap. His hands that had been wearing special gloves rubbed the parts of the baking sheet with a small portion of the cake left behind. Just then he heard a song that was sung to someone.

_I'm full of lackness, and I'm so reckless_

_But isn't it your fault after all?_

_Am I wishing for something ..._

_[impossible?]_

_Fake personality is bad_

_[But I keep walking on my own way]_

That voice is a boy's voice, of course. Hia voice is hoarse and full of sadness, without the accompaniment of any musical instrument. Because of that he was sure it was not the voice of a street singer who usually played guitar. But Mark ignored him and continued his work carefully; three of the five pans were washed by it.

The singing voice suddenly stopped

Mark suddenly focuses his eyes towards his work, just in case the voice is a voice without an owner, even though he himself doesn’t want to believe what he means. His hands rubbed the sticky parts of the baking sheets faster, afraid because he was in the kitchen at night shop alone. And when he felt calm because the voice was no longer heard, the boy's singing continued.

_I'm all alone in this world ..._

_I can't stay like this_

_But I can't go anywhere to return_

_Desperately ask my heart .._

**_"Where will you take me?"_ **

But the song sounded more sad now, making the young man with brown eyes sure that the song was sung by human. When he finished washing the cake scales, the song stopped again. Mark took off his gloves and washed his hands, waiting for the chant to be heard again. But, it's just quiet that welcomes him now. Various thoughts once again drew in his mind. He quickly cleaned the pans onto the shelf and picked up a jacket.

After chanting a prayer before going out and making sure that the song was not heard again, Mark came out of the cake shop through the side door, not forgetting to lock it with a duplicate key that was only owned by the shop employees. He watched the sky for a moment; the half moon shines brightly up there, covered by thin clouds. He stepped on his feet to the end of the alley that was on the side of the road, reaching into his pocket.

Loud noise heard by his ear.

The noise stopped his steps. The young man was stunned for a moment, not daring to look back. Cold sweat dripped on his forehead, as if he felt a dark aura behind him. But it was only silence that enveloped the situation, besides the overlapping engine sound of the car that night.

The man turned, found nothing suspicious. He squinted to make sure once again. This time the iris caught an object like a black box, poking up behind the boxes of food that the cake shop ordered. Usually there was nothing but dust and the cold of the piercing air.

Now he decided to approach. His fear was lost by curiosity. And when he arrived a few meters from the black boxes, he saw a pair of white-footed feet in there. He stepped back while swallowing hard, guessing what was behind it.

"A boy?"

 

 

000

 

The two eyelids opened slowly, showing dark gem behind it. But a moment later the eyes narrowed again, not yet accustomed to the level of light penetrating the pupils.

The dark orbs belonged to Renjun.

The boy widened his eyes again. Realizing that he was wrapped in a thick, warm and soft blue blanket. At first he was confused, and just stared at the wooden ceiling decorated with the chandelier above. But he remembered, last night he didn't sleep here. He slept in a narrow alley next to the cake shop for what it was called. A dust-filled alley he had wiped with his palms to reduce the thickness of the grayish white layer.

The black-haired boy rose to a sitting position. He watched around. He was in a room that was not too small but also not spacious. He also found himself on a blue and white futon. Across the room was a single bed that looked comfortable, with a black blanket folded neatly on its side, empty without anyone on it.

The room he occupied was painted in cream color. On the wall are posters of the Fall Out Boy and also the famous female singer, that Renjun couldn’t remembered her name. From the colors of the furniture and the air, the room is very clear is the room of a man. His mind was, How could he arrive in a man's room?

Renjun immediately grab his hair, realizing something that struck his mind. Panic grabbed him tightly. What really happened? He was worried half to death. Where is he now? Maybe he has been ...

No. It is impossible. The boy let out a long breath to calm himself. But, various negative thoughts still obey the guitar boy's mind. Even though he knew that his items still looked intact (at least, he could see his bag and guitar in the corner of the room) and the clothes he was wearing were still the same, he still was not calm. Who knows right? Just imagine, how do you feel when you wake up from sleep and find yourself in a room that you don't know, and that room is a room of a stranger?

The boy who used to hold the Huang surname swallowed hard. He brushed the blanket off his thin body, then walked towards the things in the corner of the room. But his steps stopped when his foot stepped on something. He lifted his leg, found his necklace lying there. He sighed, took it and then continued his steps towards his belongings.

He opened the zipper of his bag, and found the contents of the object made of yellow cloth were empty. His eyes widened instantly, surprised to see that the bag had nothing to offer, except the invisible air. Panicked, he took his guitar case; light. Means that the guitar is not in place. Renjun bit his lip, getting worried.

Where are the items?

Renjun looked away all over the room. But there were no signs of his clothes (or at least his guitar). All he found was a bed, study table and a cupboard. Ah, closet! The boy immediately stepped quickly toward the black cupboard on the north side of the room and opened the door. In it, there are lots of men's clothing. And he didn't see any signs of his clothes in there. The logic is, if Renjun was moved here last night and his clothes were put in this closet, his clothes should have been in the top pile right? But what's in the top row is a red shirt that says Music is my life.

The cabinet door closed. Now the dark iris switches to the door of the room.

Who might be behind there? He swallowed once more, now squeezing the hem of his shirt tightly. He thought about whether he should go out or not. He can feel cold greeting the tips of his toes and hands for fear. Even now, it may be that his face has been as pale as a paper; white.

After taking a deep breath and exhaling, he decided to leave. He stepped on his trembling legs, felt the surface of the ceramic whose temperature was colder than the tips of his toes. And when he arrived at the end of the door, he looked out of the room, ascertaining whatever was there.

He swept his gaze toward the room that looked like a living room as well as the television room, climbing the sides of the door that led to a small room that looked like a kitchen, and traced the view toward the closed door; maybe the front door. When his eyes reach a detector someone outside the door (who can show who is coming when you press the button), then he realizes that he is in an apartment and not a house. Luxury apartment of course.

"Ah, are you awake?" the voice made Renjun shudder. Exaggerated indeed, because the voice is not a rude voice or a strange sound. But still, the voice surprised Renjun who was watching another room.

The guitar boy turned to the origin of the voice, found a man he suspected was the owner of the room (if this place could be called a room) this apartment. The man wearing a gray shirt and black trousers  His hair was reddish brown, staring at him kindly without signs of evil intentions. But Renjun remains paranoid.

The boy stepped back one step. The man chuckled.

"You must be surprised?" said the man crisply. "I found you sleeping behind boxes beside the cake shop where I worked. So, I just took you with my car here."

Renjun looked at the man with an absurd look. Unable to say a word. After all, he knew that the man had not finished talking. Or at least, introduce himself.

"My name is Mark Lee." he said, as Renjun had guessed. "Here is my apartment's room. If you want, you can stay here."

The last sentence that the man said made Renjun’s eyes open wide. Stay here? How can a man offer a place to live with a boy? There must be something, he thought. He shuddered.

It seems like Mark is aware of Renjun's pale face.

"No, I won't do anything, just calm down." he said, like he knew the contents of the boy's mind. "I'm not such a person, you know?"

Renjun shook his head, Mark patted his forehead. Sigh.

"Okay," said the brown-haired man later. "I will go to work, at the pastry shop yesterday. You just stay here," he continued while reviewing a smile. Mark stepped into the front room, wanting to take his jacket which was lying on the couch there.

The small boy stepped his right foot forward, hesitating. He wanted to ask where his things were, but for some reason his voice didn't want to come out. He only opened his mouth and looked at the man in front of him and his bag alternately.

Mark, who looked at Renjun in his red jacket, knew what Renjun meant, he replied, "Your clothes are in laundry, and your guitar is in the musical repair shop in the city center."

Renjun let out a heavy breath, nodded in response.

Mark responded with a friendly smile. Then he quickly walked to the front door, glancing at his black circular watch in his right hand.

"I'll be back at nine o'clock. If you're hungry, food is in the refrigerator. Or you can order delivery, I leave some money on the bookshelf there." Mark said at once, pointing to a high quality wooden bookcase on the edge of the room.

Renjun swallowed hard, again. Rich man, he thought.

Shortly thereafter, the brunette man disappeared behind the door, on the bend of the corridor there. Leave Renjun who is still standing at the door of the room.

"... My God."

 

000

 

At two-thirty in the afternoon, two hours had passed since the apartment's owner had left for his workplace. The sun is blazing out there, so excited to spread the heat all over the earth. Occasionally the sound of the roar of vehicles from outside was heard, crawling the senses of hearing of the boy who was now staying in the male apartment called Mark Lee.

The boy himself is now reading a novel by Agatha Christie which he found on the bookshelf of the master of the apartment. He sat with much uncomfortable on the couch, because he still felt hesitant to stay there longer.

Actually, it occurred to him that he was about to escape from that place. But he remembered that his clothes and guitar had not been returned to him. So forcedly, he stayed there for a while. He doesn't have another destination.

Besides, hey, this apartment is quite comfortable too.

The boy closed his book, bored with the criminal storyline, even though he understood the name of the author who was famous in the field. He felt that his stomach was aching from hunger, but felt uncomfortable when taking food in the refrigerator even though the man with the brown hair allowed it, let alone ordering delivery.

Renjun laid himself on the couch, taking a deep breath. He was very lucky because he was picked up by someone like Mark. But until now, he still could not trust him completely; the man is too good.

He circulated his gaze to the white ceiling. Thinking about what happened to him in the past few days, thinking about the news of his father and mother who were far away. Think of many things. Not that Renjun cared for his father, he was only curious; did his father regret having expelled him?

Close his eyes, Renjun sighed. His head felt heavy from reading too many books while the hot air was embracing him. He massaged his right temple slowly, feeling pain when his index finger pressed against his temple.

Shortly thereafter, he was carried away in a world called a dream.

 

000

 

Mark is decorating a chocolate-covered cake with vanilla cream.

The cake is for one of the store's loyal customer orders, Kim Minseon. A woman around 35 years old often order cakes for almost everything. Every once in a while, the two twins of hers took part to order in the shop and muttered admiration for the cakes on display in the window. This time, Jaehyun told him that Mrs. Kim ordered a cake for her eldest son's birthday; not the twins, but the twin’s brother who have never been seen in this shop.

Mark finished writing the phrase 'Happy Birthday Minseok’ with vanilla cream. He wiped his sweat with his arm, then turned his gaze to the clock that hung on the wall. At eight past five minutes of the night. The man now took a packet of strawberry cream which he had prepared, about to frame the text with that pink cream.

He had promised that he would go home at nine to the boy he left at his house. Mark even forgot to ask his name this morning, and the boy also did not introduce himself even though Mark had introduced himself. Or maybe the boy is mute? Ah, it's impossible, the boy sang a few moments before he found him asleep next to the shop. If the boy is mute, who is singing then? Thinking about it Mark got goosebumps.

By the way, he also didn't know what kind of impulse made him offer a place to live in the homeless boy.

'Well, one goodness is okay,' he thought.

The ordered cake done by Mark is now decorated with cream and looks beautiful. He just called Donghyuck, his partner besides Jaehyun, to deliver the cake to Mrs. Kim's house. This store also does serve inter-service services.

Mark brought the cake to the table opposite the sink, where the cakes to be delivered were placed there. He put the cake slowly into a box. He took a piece of paper and wrote down the name of the ordering cake and its address, put the piece of paper on the cardboard lid. Then he went to the employee locker, picked up his jacket and scarf to get ready to go back to the apartment.

Previously, he took the black forest cake which he made today for his own sake, wanting to take it home.

"Hyung, I’m going," Mark said as he saw Jaehyun opening the oven to get the ripe cake. Jaehyun answered with a nod with a smile, which made Mark felt warm at any time. He put his foot out, through the front door. Then he found Donghyuck leaning beside his service car.

"I’m going, Hyuck, Mrs. Kim's ordered cake was finished. I put it on the inter-table." Mark said to him. 'Inter-table' is the name of the employees for the table where the cakes will be delivered.

"Alright. Good job!" Donghyuck exclaimed, raising his thumb. Mark answered with a small grin, then the red-crossed man entered his car not far from the service car between Donghyuck.

Mark directs his car out of the cake shop parking lot.

 

000

 

Night has spread its wings. The stars boast their flickering in the sky. This night's moon looks reddish.

Dark is the view seen by Mark when he entered the room of his apartment. Reflexively, he fumbled the wall around the door, looking for the light switch he knew there and pressed the button. The sudden bright light of the lamp made the man in the red jacket narrow his eyes slightly, but then his eyes filled the room.

Now, where is the boy?

The default is very much. In his right hand, he carried the boy's clothes that had been finished laundry and the black forest cake that he brought home. While the guitar that just came out from the reparations place he took it with his left hand. He looked for the passenger in the apartment room. Then he found the petite figure lying on the couch.

He approached him, placed all the items on the table in front of the couch, except for the boy's guitar, which he placed beside the couch, leaning against the wall. The boy's shoulders were shaking slowly, waking him up.

"Hoi, wake up," Mark said, shaking the boy's shoulder. He didn't know the boy's name; not yet, exactly. Therefore he did not know how to call the boy. "Get up,"

The owner of the black hair opened his eyes slowly. For a moment he forgot where he was now, especially when he saw the figure of Mark who had shook his shoulder a while ago. He gasped, waking up from his sleeping position with eyes that forgot sleepiness. But a moment later he remembered. He took a temporary stay in the man's apartment.

"Hey, relax ..." Mark said, holding his hand away from Renjun's shoulder. "Have you eaten? I brought a cake. Then, this is your clothes, and that is your guitar. You must not have had dinner? Have you had lunch?"

Mark asked a question that sounded very fussy, but Renjun didn't answer. He was fixated on the man of the apartment's room owner, the first person to care for him after all these years.

"Hey." Mark replied, breaking Renjun's daydream.

"E-eh, huh?" for the first time, Renjun opened his mouth in front of the man. Mark let out a sigh of relief, the boy was not mute. The man took off his jacket, put it in a chair near the makeshift bookshelf. Then step into the refrigerator.

"Your name?" asked Mark briefly.

"... Renjun." Renjun said, avoiding mentioning his surname. After being kicked out of the house, it seems like he doesn't deserve (and doesn't want to) carry the name again.

"So what did you have lunch for?" asked the reddish-brown haired man, checking the food in the refrigerator. But, it looks like everything is still intact.

"...I didn’t."

Mark raised his eyebrows.

"Gosh! You haven't eaten all day?" the man asked worriedly. "What do you want to eat now?"

Renjun is silent. Why does the man care?

Mark shook his head, closed the refrigerator door behind him. "I will cook something for you. After that, you can eat cookies." he said, then stepped into the kitchen.

"Eeh ... no need." Renjun's response. Suddenly he felt bad. Have you been hitched, fed, too? "I will leave this place now. My clothes and guitar are back ... Take it easy,"

Mark chuckled. "Where do you want to go? Go around the city aimlessly and sleep in the back of the store again? I won't let that happen." Mark explained reflexively. He didn't even know why he should say that.

"Why not?" Renjun asked loudly. Why is this man so persistent?

"Because I care." Mark answered firmly.

"Why do you care?"

Silence creeps. Mark can't answer that question. The mind also wonders, why does he care about the boy in front of him? Why didn't he let the small boy go into the night, tracing him alone? Why didn't he kick the boy out of his apartment this morning? The boy looked at him deeply, as if tracing certain points in the iris. Could it be that the boy is looking for sincerity in his view?

Renjun looked away.

"Eat first." Mark said. change subject. Then handed out a box of black forest cakes that he brought.

Renjun fell silent. And silence still wrapped around them.

 

000

 

A month has passed.

Renjun, after the silence that night, decided to stay. All because he saw a splash of sincerity that lit up in the iris of the man, Mark Lee, though it seemed unreasonable. And also the kindness of the man who almost always smiled warmly to him.

Renjun is not a stupid boy. For sixteen years living in his house (who had a false affection) and one year in high school, he began to read someone's intentions. Who is sincere and not. Whether it's the way they talk, how they behave, or even how they smile at him. When someone is sincere, all he can see is a depth in their iris, or a serenity that flows through their smiles.

Mark has it. The man stuck out a piece of depth in the iris every time the view of the two of them met. A stream of peace flowing softly from his smile. Also the emanation of tranquility comes from the silhouette of the man.

At the very least, Renjun felt he had to believe it first.

Mark has an empty room in his apartment, which is actually a family room. But Mark did not use the room because the apartment's front room could still load the living room couches and the television. When Renjun finally decided to stay, Mark happily invited the younger boy to occupy the room, and helped clean it from the dust that was milling about.

The next day, the room was filled with a futon similar to what Renjun had worn when the boy was taken to the apartment, and also some of the clothes the boy carried, which was placed in a makeshift box. Actually, Mark just wanted to buy the boy a cupboard. Because money from his brother is always more than enough. But the sweet looking boy refused, arguing that he did not necessarily live permanently there. After all, there was a closet too because he only carried a little clothes and never cleaned the closet again when he made the contents fall apart.

Every day, their activities are almost always the same, but they never feel bored. In the morning, they wake up and clean up the messy parts of the house. Then they eat breakfast, Mark is the one who cooks, even though sometimes he teaches Renjun to cook. At ten or eleven o'clock in the afternoon, Mark left for the cake shop where he worked, until six o'clock in the afternoon or nine o'clock if he was overtime.

Sometimes when he comes home, he brings a box of wet cakes that customers don't buy that day, which won't last if sold tomorrow. They eat it together, with Renjun's details which help teach Mark playing guitar. Then they talked about many things, watched television and then went into their rooms at eleven o'clock at night.

This time too, when the night began to dye the sky with a combination of dark colors and clouds swallowing the moon round, Renjun and Mark were still sitting on the floor of the front room. Eating Red Velvet Cake that Mark brought home, a cake in which there is sweet strawberry jam and will melt on the tongue when you eat it. The black-shirted man held the guitar, tried to position the fingers of his left hand according to the instructions of the boy in front of him, and the right hand occasionally inserted a piece of cake into his mouth.

"Your index finger should be there. Well, on the second string. Yep. Then try playing," Renjun said instructing. The man in front of him began playing the guitar on his lap, while repeatedly staring at his right and left hands alternately, afraid to make mistakes.

But so far, he was able to play the song's song accompaniment smoothly. Feeling that, Renjun tapped his index finger on the floor surface according to tempo. Soon he sang a song he wrote a few days ago.

_The past can't be changed, my friend_

_But look forward, to the sunset_

_And with our little hands_

_Let's create happiness_

Outro is played. The boy wearing the dark blue blouse clapped to the tempo. Mark, who began to slow down his guitar playing then finished outro and smiled at the boy. Renjun smiled back. And then they laugh together. Warm.

 

000

 

Mark still remembers when he asked the boy about his family. That day was the day Mark didn't bring cake from his shop. And instead, they went to the minimarket at the end of the road together, buying snacks and instant cream soup for themselves. And when he returned to the apartment, Mark immediately made the corn cream soup, then poured it into two small bowls and gave one to Renjun.

They ate the soup while chatting. At first, Renjun asked about his family. Mark then tells that he had forgotten who his parents were because they had died since Mark was 3 years old. Then, his brother, David, who at that time was 16, immediately dropped out of school to work. Until then, his thirty-three-year-old brother lived in Korea with his new family while managing a hotel there. Once a month sends money to Mark.

Renjun nodded reverently, then scooped back the cream soup from the bowl.

Then, Mark asked Renjun about the boy's family. That's when Renjun fell silent, letting silence take over. The small boy just paused to observe the bowl of creamy soup, stirring it with a spoon slowly.

The man in front of him only scratched his head, assuming his question had just offended the boy. But when he said that it was okay if Renjun did not want to tell it, the boy actually said that he wanted to tell a story, but it took time for it.

Moments later, Renjun began to open a voice. That's when Mark knew the cause of the boy being homeless and stranded in this town, far from her residence. Leaving his luxurious life feeling half forced but half relieved. Forced because of being evicted and not having the time to pack all of his valuables. But also happy, because finally he is free from the restraints of his single parent.

And when Renjun sobbed, Mark stroked the boy's head. Let her cry, let out a tightness that filled his chest cavity so far.

 

000

 

Crowded streets. The vehicle clashes with the noise of their roar. People were walking around, some were at the bus stop, watching the boards bearing the bus lines that were there. Some are stepping on the side of the road, with a fast and uncaring tempo.

At the station, a boy in a yellow hoddie was seen. He looked here and there, through the shadow of people he didn't know. In his right hand was a guitar in a black case, which occasionally hit other people's steps.

The boy, Renjun, was occasionally squeezed into the crowd. One of the trains just stopped and dropped off the passenger, the cause of this crowd. But what Renjun is looking for is not a train, but a side, or angle, which is quite empty for himself. He wanted to sing there, with the accompaniment of the guitar he played himself.

That day, because he was bored at home, he decided to sing at the station.

The boy's retina caught a side in question, next to a traveling beverage dealer in a black hat. With difficulty, the black haired boy slipped between the crowds, resisting the urge to hit people who squeezed him in his guitar case. Thank you for his small posture, making it easier to slip through the passing crowd. Although the guitar case is sometimes troublesome, it catches the button in the zipper of someone else's jacket.

In that corner, he put the guitar case in front of him, opened it and took his brownish yellow guitar. While searching for a solid scene at the station, the guitar was held on it, while his right hand reached into his pocket to find a pick.

Renjun prepares. He wants to compete with the noise at the station. But it doesn't seem to matter, because before he grabbed his guitar, several people had gathered in front of him, watching him like an owl watching its prey. Renjun swallowed hard, positioned both hands properly.

_Intro started._

_Life goes on_

_That's what you tell me_

_Fate isn't made to make you fell down_

_But to make you stand on your own power_

The crowd that watched it became more crowded. Makes Renjun feel a little nervous. He never sang until this many people watched. Some people think Renjun is a street singer, and they put some money into the open Renjun guitar case.

_I'm glad I met you_

_The person I love right now_

_A nice person with his kindness_

Renjun still sings while playing guitar, completing a song he just made last night. He sang the lyrics for the lyrics he made, felt the air gently stroke his heart. Close my eyes, Renjun plays outro.

And when the boy opened her eyes, everyone clapped. He couldn't help but smile.

 

000

 

Renjun walked down the lane beside the station, taking a shortcut to return to Mark's apartment. The road is a little damp because it's rarely passed. Pebbles are scattered in the middle and on the edge, occasionally he is kicking because he thinks the small object is blocking the way. On the left side of the road is an empty house, which at the bottom of the wall begins to overgrown with flowers of wild dandelions, whose grains are blown lightly when tapped by the wind.

The songwriting boy carried his guitar like a backpack, while his hands and mouth were busy counting the amount of money some people put into his guitar case. Actually, he sings not to get money, but to find out other people's opinions besides Mark about his songs. But when some people put a piece or several pieces of money, they can't return it. Because he didn't know which person gave him the money.

Pretty much for the results of a street singer, on his first day.

He put the money in his pocket, making sure that the money would not fall into the street he was about to pass. He thought how he would tell Mark about this. At least, the money that he can ease the burden of the man who is now also living himself. Maybe Mark will be happy.

Thinking about it, Renjun couldn't stop smiling.

 

000

 

Mark always observes Renjun every second they spend time together. He knew the movements of the dark haired boy. The way the boy looked at the television screen seriously, the way the boy moved his fingers from strings to other strings while playing the guitar, the way the boy complained when he got into trouble, even the way the boy closed his eyes when living every lyric he sang. Sometimes, the man wants to capture the boy's figure, frame it for himself and store it in a closet that no one can open except himself.

Therefore, armed with an old tape recorder he found in one of the dusty cardboard boxes he had carried when he first moved to the apartment, he was determined to record Renjun's song. At first, he thought of keeping it as a memento for himself; the boy can't stay with him forever, right? He will not know what happened, because fate is ambiguous. But after rethinking, he then intended to send it to a record company. Luckily if accepted.

And that is, when the night began to spread its dark wings, he secretly carried out his plan. Why do you have to do this secretly? I don't know, he also doesn't really know. However, all he knew was, he wanted to make all this a surprise for the boy. Although a moment later he thought that he was crazy.

Well, you don't understand the thoughts of people who are in love, right?

When the boy who was staying in his apartment began to take on the guitar, the reddish-haired man had pressed the play button on a tape recorder behind his back, making sure that the boy didn't notice it. Then he listened to the boy's humming silence, afraid to give a noise that would disturb the recording he was doing. He watched the boy's face in front of him deeply, stalking every inch he was studying in his own song.

_The past can't be changed, my friend_

_But look forward, to the sunset_

_And with our little hands_

_Let's create happiness_

The song sung by the boy is the song most often sung by him. The song created by the teenage boy for a relatively long period of time. At least compared to other songs, which are completed in less than a day or two. The song that was made was made on a different day, because he intended to make this song the perfect song. Even though the petite boy knew there was nothing perfect in this world.

The song was titled Rain Song.

Renjun gave him a title based on circumstances when the last temple he made. It was a rainy night which, though not too heavy, was enough to bring cold air to hit the surface of the skin, brushing the hairs of the neck. Renjun made the last temple that night because he couldn't sleep. Even though he planned to make it tomorrow, because he didn't have anything else to do, there was no other choice for him.

As he was writing the third verse of the song, suddenly Mark knocked on the door of his room. And when he opened the door, he found the brown eyed man carrying two cups of hot chocolate with a big smile at him. Invite him to drink it together in the living room.

Renjun agreed, taking the time to write down the last line in a hurry from the song before catching up with Mark outside the room.

_Life goes on_

_That's what you tell me_

_Fate isn't made to make you fell down_

_But to make you stand on your own power_

Renjun continues to sing. And the song sung by the boy continued to be recorded until the end.

 

000

 

Renjun, from the first day he sang at the station, did it more often. About an hour after Mark went to work, he would get ready to leave. Wearing a black jacket that Mark had given a while ago, and carried the guitar in the case. He then locks the apartment door with a duplicate key and goes out.

Along the busy streets, he took a shortcut through narrow alleys hidden in the city. Passing through the hardened earthen road and starting to moss because of being exposed to laundry wastewater every day, it also passes through a small ditch. He stepped while continuing to hum. Until finally arrived at the alley a few meters from the station.

When he remembered, he had done this habit for a month. Entertaining people at the station with his singing, then get some money without asking. He did everything without Mark's awareness. Yes, he hasn't told the man yet. Somehow he felt a little embarrassed when he told him. And also, he won't know what the reaction is right? So he decided to keep it himself as a secret. At least, for a while. Until he felt it was time he told the owner of the place he was sheltered.

That day, he fought the flow of crowd caused by the new train arriving at the station; the train at one o'clock in the afternoon from another town, the train he used to ride when he had just been driven out of his house. He looked for the corner where he used to hold shows while remaining alert to the ignorant hands that could take his wallet secretly. And refrain from pounding his guitar case on people who pretend not to see him and hit him, or in office men who still smoke in the crowd without being caught by officers.

When he arrived, a young blond man nodded faintly at him as a greeting. Renjun already knows who he is. He, as mentioned earlier, is a traveling beverage dealer at the station. When Renjun held a show, the young man offered drinks to people who watched it. Calculate, symbiotic mutualism. Renjun nodded his head while smiling at the person in return, then jogged to where he would start the show.

Some people who had memorized his figure slowly approached him. Renjun smiles while struggling on his guitar case.

That day, as usual, applause was the answer to the song.

 

000

Mark drives his car to the apartment. The evening sky began to blush, creating a beautiful blend of colors between red, orange and purple up there. That day, Mark returned early because Jaehyun replaced him overtime. That was because last week, the brown-haired man had replaced Jaehyun's overtime schedule twice because the older man said that he wanted to date his boyfriend..

So, this time, Jaehyun's turn replaced his overtime turn, even though he had to be forced first.

On the bench beside the wheelchair, there was a brown envelope. The brown envelope had torn the edges, a sign that the envelope had been opened after being sent. The driver of the car just got it at the cake shop. The envelope was the answer to the recording of Renjun's song he sent a month ago. Mark deliberately wrote down the address of the cake shop where he worked compared to the address of the apartment, thinking of the risk of being discovered because the boy was in the apartment all day.

Mark had opened the envelope with a flat expression. But when he read the letter and proof of the tape in it, he opens his eyes wider. No matter how many times he read the letter, where he read it, and even told Jaehyun to read it while shaking the cake mixture, the contents remained the same.

The song was accepted, even offered a debut.

Therefore, with half force, he asked Jaehyun to replace his overtime shift today, using the reason Jaehyun often asked him to replace him. The real reason was that he wanted to hurry home and meet the boy, then tell the good news.

Thinking about Renjun's reaction, Mark couldn't stop smiling.

Mark didn't just smile because of that. But also because he was happy. Of course, officially debuting is much better for the boy. He could not imagine if the talent of the boy was wasted. Or even if the boy becomes a street singer. Singing at a station or terminal with the risk of being hammered by thugs.

Mark's car stopped in the apartment parking lot. He turned off the engine, grabbed the envelope and quickly entered the apartment building.

However, empty is the situation that Mark found in his apartment room. The petite boy didn't exist anywhere. He had tapped on the bathroom door, looked at the kitchen, even opened his room closet to find the boy. But nothing. The boy didn't show his face.

Mark tried to enter the boy's room. He had brought the room's original key, because the key that Renjun carried was a duplicate, to guard if the room was locked. But it didn't. The room opened in seconds he turned the knob. He entered the room, found the contents were the same.

Where is the boy?

And at the same time he thought about it, he found the corner of the room empty, without a guitar that should have been there.

Suddenly the sound of an open door was heard. Mark jumped in surprise. But a moment later he immediately thought that the one who entered was Renjun. Because of that he immediately walked quickly to the front room. And sure enough, there, the boy was taking off her black jacket and was about to hang it behind the door. The boy seemed unaware of her presence. Maybe he didn't see the car in the parking lot.

Mark sighed in relief, but was also upset that the boy left without saying something.

Mark cleared his throat. He clicked irritably. Staring at the boy who then jumped and turned towards him. The boy stared wide at his figure, perhaps not expecting because today was Thursday, the day he was supposed to be overtime at the pastry shop.

"E ... uh, you've come home," Renjun said awkwardly. He slightly shifted his body towards the guitar that he leaned against the wall next to the door, hoping that the man who had accommodated it had not seen his favorite thing.

"Where are you from?"

That question made the boy fell silent.

"Hm ..., I was from the minimarket."

"Oh, I see." replied Mark. He scratched his non-itchy head. "Then where is your shopping bag? Why are you carrying a guitar?"

Checkmate.

Renjun swallowed hard when he heard Mark's question that seemed sharp. He avoided the man's gaze in front of him. Somehow he had a bad feeling. He thought of an alibi he could say, but nothing. Apparently, this is the time when he has to say the truth. Well, how smart you keep the carcass, it will eventually smell, right?

"I sing at the station."

Mark is dumbfounded. The boy was singing at the station. Duh.

"Yes ... some people give me money, some don't. B-but I don't ask them to give money. You know? Singing there is very pleasant. Applause greets me when I finish—"

"Oh, I see." Mark said curtly. He himself did not know why he did this. Maybe he felt that the boy didn't appreciate his efforts to support them both?

"Y, yes."

"Are you not ashamed?" Mark asked again. He began to feel his blood rising for no reason.

And a second later, he realized the reason.

"No...,"

"Why are you singing at the station?"

He wanted to frame the boy's voice for himself.

But why did he send the tape to the record company? For the sake of the boy's kindness.

"Come on, why are you being so mean? After all, I have some fans," Renjun said later, starting to stick insistently. Now he began to dare to look at Mark right in the eye.

"Because I'm your best friend."

"Friends won't forbid his friend to do the things he likes." Renjun argued. He frowned, feeling the atmosphere between him and the taller man begin to feel strange.

"Friends won't let their friends embarrass themselves in public." he replied, not wanting to lose. They were silent for a while.

"Do you think I'm embarrassing?"

The boy without the surname looked at Mark sharply. He didn't expect all this to happen. Mark's annoying reaction, Mark who returned early, was mad because he came home late ...

_God, it would be better if we could turn back time._

"It is not like that."

"Then?"

The boy sharpened his gaze at the figure of the man in front of him. Now, it is Mark's turn to look away.

"I just want the best."

The boy was amazed to hear it.

"Best? What's so good if I don't do the things I like?"

And when Mark turned and was about to answer, the boy's figure had been replaced by the apartment's wide open door.

 

000

_Mark doesn't know why he can be that hard on Renjun._

_All he’s doing is the thing the boy likes. After all, it doesn't hurt him. Renjun is not a child, he can take care of himself._

_But imagining the boy singing on the street really made him furious._

_He has a better plan than all of that. The key plan he put on the dining table of his apartment, which he left behind because of the panic that rushed when he found his apartment room empty._

_Mark realized he was wrong._

_He shouldn't restrain the boy. He is nobody. Friend? After the incident, was he still the boy's best friend?_

_Mark turned around. Night has begun to sow stars, darken the sky to highlight its small flicker. Mark did not find the petite figure, even though he was sure the boy was running in this direction. He sighed, trying to seize oxygen greedily from the air._

_He cursed his unstable self._

_Unstable. For this reason he moved this town many years ago. Separating from his brother, David. He was determined to improve himself and become more mature. However, it turns out he did not change._

_Mark turned back. Now he saw the boy's figure crossing the railroad tracks at the end of the road. His dark hair protruded between the darkness of the night. Reflexively, Mark ran towards him._

_"RENJUN!"_

_The boy accelerated his run. But Mark did not give up._

_The man crossed the railroad tracks, jumped over because the bar had closed, a sign that the train would pass. Succeed. He saw the boy turning right at a glance. Speeding up his legs._

_Mark jumped forward. He almost got hit by a bicycle. The reddish brown- haired man staggered for a moment, losing balance because his left leg, which was covered in sandals, stepped on gravel._

_The last thing he seen was a blinding lights._

_And his figure was hit by a cargo truck._

 

000

 

The boy buried his face in the folds of his arms. His chest felt tight, filled with confusion. He can smell the smell of polish from the window frame where his hand is. Feel the cold wind that brings strands of hair to dance. Hearing the humming sound that came from nowhere.

And feel that his sleeve is damp by tears.

He sobbed again. His shoulders trembled because of it. He lifted his head, staring at the noisy streets below. Then his arm tried to erase the trace of his tears. The small boy then turned around, looked around.

Some of the furniture in the room has been lost, replaced by emptiness. What was in the spacious room now was just a couch, television and bookshelves. Even the large table used as a dining table was gone. From the edge of the window, he could see the two doors north of the kitchen; one of the doors leads to a room that is now empty.

Or intentionally emptied because the owner is gone.

Renjun dropped himself on the couch, regulating his breath and emotions. Tears were indeed buried in the lids, but he tried hard. The boy turned her mind by looking at the bookshelf, where books of all sizes were stored. But failed, he instead remembered things he did not want to remember.

He remembered, on the first day he set foot in this place, all seemed strange. The interior, the view, even the smell of the room that was contaminated with the air freshener in the taste of the apple that was hung in the mouth of the air conditioner also felt strange.

At that time he hesitated. Doubt whether or not he should accept the goodness of the man with that warming smile. Moreover Mark invited him to stay there lightly, as if it was just an ordinary thing. He even wanted to run away, if only his clothes and guitars were not in the laundry and musical instrument repairs.

He also remembered when he taught Mark to play guitar. When Mark mistakenly placed his ring finger when he was about to play the C chord. When they both laughed at Mark's index finger that was reddened by too much pressure on the guitar strings.

All that feels like it just happened yesterday.

He smiled, sore. Realizing that everything will not happen again.

Time won't spin back, right?

 

000

_The past can't be changed, my friend_

_But look forward, to the sunset_

_And with our little hands_

_Let's create happiness_

________________________________________

_On that fateful night, Renjun didn't know what had happened._

_He continued to run down the road where it was not clear where to go. He did not know the shops around him. Vegetable Store, Kage Dog Clinic, he never passed the alley. He didn't know after tracing this alley, he had to turn where._

_To be sure, he was disappointed with Mark. He did not expect Mark to be so cynical about his street career. He thought the man would support him. But, indeed, everything that disappoints always happens unexpectedly._

_The boy's mind floated. Towards the days where he and Mark spend time together. Playing guitar, eating shared cakes, watching television, drinking hot chocolate, and so on. Everything revolved in his mind like a broken cassette. Makes it unfocused on quick steps in the run._

_The dark haired boy stopped running, forced his breath to force while patting her tight chest to collect oxygen. He stacked his left hand above the knee while slightly bending; position which increasingly makes his chest tight. But he doesn't care._

_He looked back. However, there is nothing empty. There is only darkness that welcomes his vision. Without any figure. Without anyone. Without his figure._

_Renjun blinked. He looked at the dark path in front of him. He found nothing but the dim light of the pole lights on the other end, also the faint shadow of the muddy streets he stepped on. The boy was immediately surprised, where did the man go? Didn't he hear his voice when he wanted to turn here?_

_It seems impossible Mark lost himself. He hasn't turned again after Mark calls him._

_The boy then ponders. Does he have to continue his run or turn around looking for him?_

 

000

 

Renjun played silver coins on the floor. He watched the coin continue to spin and spin, from one side of the ceramic floor to the other, then stopped because it hit the light blue bed sheet. The boy with minimum body height sighed softly. This is so boring, but also sad.

Because at that time he realized that the person who was usually with him was gone. And it won't come back forever.

At present, what he hopes most is the figure of the former owner of this apartment knocked on the door of his room. Then take him to the kitchen and make pancakes along with his favorite avocado juice together. Full of chatter, laughter and jokes.

Or maybe, the figure would open the door of his room without permission, then sit on the floor of his room and put a box of cakes from where he worked while smiling meaningfully.

Renjun lay on the floor of the room, staring at the white-painted ceiling. He remembered the first time he and Mark cleaned this room. This room was once a dust-filled room and the boxes that had not been opened by Mark. They dismantled the contents of the cardboard box before clearing the room, finding lots of dust-covered objects, but still good inside. A radio, a folding knife, and an old yellow cellphone, which used to belong to Mark. Which is then given to Renjun. Mark says, when Renjun needs his help, he just needs to call him and Mark will help him.

And Renjun remembers those words well. Therefore in contact with the cellphone, there was only the number that belonged to the crimson brown hairedman.

Reflexively, Renjun felt the pocket of his shorts, feeling a rectangular object inside. He took the object and looked at it for a while, watching the Stitch strap that was there from the beginning. He smiled faintly and closed his eyes. It was one of the many items given by Mark during his stay there. That thing means it to him.

When the boy in the yellow shirt opened his eyes, tears fell down his face.

 

000

_Life goes on_

_That's what you tell me_

_Fate isn't made to make you fell down_

_But to make you stand on your own power_

__________________________________________

_The boy decided to turn around. And when the songwriting boy came out of the alley, he turned around._

_Glittering shop decoration lights. Also round red lights on the corner of the railroad tracks. The rays of all the lights beat the starlight in the sky, making the stars hide behind space sheets. Cold propagates through the air, penetrates the pores of the skin._

_A few meters from the train crossing, there was a crowd. The crowd was so noisy, there were some people talking to the police next to the group of people. Another person is holding the phone, attaching it to the ear. The person who was shouted at because of the ambulance had not yet arrived._

_Renjun's mind complicated. Don't tell me ... Mark was hit by a train?_

_No, it's impossible. He did hear the sound of the train, but did not hear the loud crash. After all, the crowd is not in the middle of the rail or between two railroad tracks. They are a few meters away. The ponytail-haired boy was fixated on the spot, trying to get rid of all the negative allegations that had sworn._

_He calmed down. Maybe it's just a hit-and-run accident. And he turned around, going to continue his escape._

_However, what if the victim of the hit-and-run accident was Mark?_

_He canceled his intention. He allowed a glance toward the still noisy crowd. The atmosphere there was dim, only illuminated by the red crossbar lights so he could not see whether the blood stains were there or in the middle of the rail. Swallowing his saliva, he again faced the crowd, hesitating again. Ask someone in the crowd or not?_

_Renjun regulates his breath, calm himself. Then, how? he thought._

_He stepped toward the crowd, forgetting the intention to ask. He wanted to see with his own eyes, who was the victim of the accident. Is he an Mark or an unknown person. In his mind, Mark's smiling face appeared. The boy bit her lip, trying to remove the shadow._

_How sad if someone is as good as him dead._

_He did not hear the noise of the people around him as he pushed the crowd and stared blankly at what was before him. Familiar figure. Lying with blood flowing from the temple and a scratch on his arm._

_No. Impossible. This is not him. Not the red-haired man I know. Not the apartment owner I was riding on. Not. This is wrong. All wrong. This fate is wrong. This event is wrong. Not him. Not. Not Mark who is lying there. I don't know this person, not at all. No. Mark ran in that direction. I am sure. He could not be lying here and covered in blood. He can't-_

_"MARK!"_

_The boy knelt beside the figure, screaming hysterically breaking the silence of the night, slashing the darkness._

 

000

 

If he can turn back time, he will do it ever since.

He will turn the time to the day when he comes home late, then goes home early. After that, he will tell Mark about his street career well, then make peace and live a normal day. Isn't that all the better?

If all that was the fate that happened.

The boy wiped the tears that had just flowed, took a deep breath while diverting his mind. He knows all things won't change even though he does that. The existing memory will remain, no matter how painful the memory is. Even though he hopes to forget it, the memory will still be there, engraved in his heart.

He rolled on the floor, facedown while staring at his cellphone screen. Wallpaper there is a picture of himself and Mark, which Mark did on the day he gave the cellphone to Renjun. His appearance there was strange, because he was not ready to be photographed. The man was only photographed in half and was seen smiling broadly beside his small smiling figure with round eyes.

He smiled again, for some reason this time it felt very bitter.

_I'm glad I met you_

_The person I love right now_

_A nice person with his kindness_

_000_

_The ambulance arrived moments later. After being put on a cloth stretcher, Mark was put in an ambulance, followed by Renjun who forced the officers to join in while crying, making the officers unable to see him._

_Arriving at the hospital, Mark was immediately referred to the ER. There, the nurses did not allow him even if it means to see Renjun whose eyes were swollen by tears. They keep telling Renjun to wait in the waiting room. Make the boy kick the hospital wall because of anger and anxiety. Then sat on one of the stools waiting while crying and blaming himself._

_If only he did not run away, if only he still faced his fight with Mark with more courage. And now, thanks to his stupidity, he harmed the person he loved. Is this time he will lose Mark too? After losing his family_

_He covered his face with both palms, regretting everything._

_Renjun waited several hours. He didn't care anymore about the hunger that had struggled in his stomach since the way home from the station. Even though he was thirsty after running and forcing his breath, he wouldn't care. He also didn't care even though his head was dizzy because he cried a lot. What's important is the state of Mark. The man must be safe. Must._

_He did not want to lose the person he loved again. Moreover, people who have been singing with him all this time._

_He wiped the traces of his tears, though all would not change the fact that he had cried and his face was still swollen. He directed the view towards the ER door on the side of the waiting room, hoping that a nurse or doctor concerned would get out of there. But many times he hoped, the outgoing nurses who carried documents whatever in his hands, passing without glancing at him._

_Until finally, when Renjun had been sleeping alone in the waiting room, when the clock moved toward the number ten, a man in a white suit came out of the emergency room. He patted Renjun's shoulder softly, making the boy who had been grasping her hair almost jumped. But seeing the doctor's figure in front of him, he let out a sigh of relief._

_"Renjun" the doctor asked. Renjun nodded in confirmation. "He is waiting for you inside. He has regained consciousness—"_

_"Is he alright? He survived, right?" Renjun's words cut the doctor's explanation. The doctor took a deep breath. Not because of anger because his words were interrupted._

_"He needs a large blood donor,." the doctor said it carefully. "And because AB blood type is little, this hospital is running out of stock."_

_"T-then?" Renjun’s blood type is A, of course he can't donate his blood._

_"He needs a blood donor within 6 hours. While we can only get donors in the morning."_

_Renjun felt his legs weak. He fell on the floor._

 

000

 

The boy in shorts felt his stomach hungry. He rose to a sitting position, tired of feeling the coldness of the floor all over his body. Then, he dropped on the bed. He is hungry, but also sleepy. It feels like just wanting to close my eyes and go to the world of dreams; very lazy to get up and cook something in the kitchen.

It feels like he wants to dream. Dream about Mark Lee. About the person he loved so much. Who can no longer accompany him in the real world. He really hoped to visit in the dream world, but nothing.

However, he still did not believe that the crimson-sliced man had died. Every time he thought about it, the first thing he had in mind was; the man is going to work, I will wait for him to go home.

How long has the boundary between past and present become blurred in his eyes?

_A faint day has passed_

_And the cold air ripped me_

_But somehow, I don’t care about it_

_Because, I met you in that condition, too_

_000_

_When Renjun entered, he saw the figure of a man he knew to be connected to several typical hospital intervals. He took a deep breath, strengthened himself when he saw a circular bandage on the head of the man who was the victim of the accident. He avoided his friend's gaze, did not know what to do._

_But when he saw him, Renjun could catch through the tail of his eyes that the man smiled at him._

_The petite silhouette approached the side of the bed, sitting on the short chair provided. Still avoiding Mark's gaze, Renjun stared at the drip hose that ended in the back of the man's hand, watching the bruises that were not far away._

_"..." the voice was Mark's muffled breath of his oxygen device. The voice that made Renjun glance at him briefly, full of guilt._

_Then silence again. It was as if the silken flower in the vase in the window on the side of the room far away blossomed, spreading its aroma and essence. And the two of them, who were in the room, didn't realize it at all._

_"Sorry," after a while, Renjun raised his voice while looking down. "Sorry," tears fell down the side of the bed._

_Mark looked at Renjun for a moment. He wanted to pat the boy's shoulder and say that everything would be fine, even though in reality it might not. But what's the power. His left hand is numb, while the right hand is too weak to do that._

_"... Renjun," the voice was mixed with a strong roar. Renjun ventured to stare at the figure in front of him. Staring at the face that smiled weakly before him. "... Sing ..."_

 

000

 

When the boy who used to be in the Huang surname opened her eyes, the wall clock was already showing at half past six in the afternoon. Dusk has come and smudged the sky, giving reviews of brown, red, yellow and orange there, not forgetting purple as the last touch.

Renjun rose from his bed. He didn't care about his tangled hair. He walked through the middle room which was now more spacious, then went to the kitchen. There, he took a mug of red and instant coffee. Brew it with hot water and stir until blended. Then, he headed to the living room, turning on the television even though he knew that he would not listen to the program there.

Very caring, he just wanted to remember those times.

_The time when he and Mark spent a rainy night drinking hot chocolate together._

_Even if we say goodbye someday_

_I want to believe that we meet again_

_Under the same sun and sky_

_Smiling and laughing together_

_000_

_At three-thirty in the morning, Mark passed away._

_Renjun attended his funeral in silence, even though tears dropped down his cheeks. All around him are people he doesn't know. A man who looked pretty much like Mark. The only thing he knew was a brown-haired man who was similar to Mark. The figure he had seen on a photo in Mark's wallet. Brother Mark, David Lee._

_The firm-looking man did not blame Renjun. He said that all that was fate. Destiny has been determined even since Mark has not been born into this world. His wife, a short brown haired woman wearing a black canal, embraced a three-year-old child with pale blonde hair while staring at her concerned._

_After the funeral, Renjun locked himself in his room. He doesn't want to do anything. He doesn't know what to do. What he did in the rest of the day only stared at the ceiling with thoughts floating everywhere, thinking about the future and the blurring past._

_At dusk, David and several brokers arrived. The emerald eyed man knocked on Renjun's room and said that he wanted to take out unnecessary furniture. Renjun didn't answer, he just stared at a small radio in his room aimlessly. After all, he didn't mind David's will. The items there are not hers. And even, he is ready if he will be kicked out of this apartment._

_But before going back to Korea, David said Renjun could stay there. In fact he said, if there was a problem, the boy could contact him. The man inserted his telephone number through the sidelines under Renjun's door, then a crackling sound like paper, and the man_ left.

 

000

 

At seven o'clock, Renjun had finished his hot chocolate.

He stared blankly at the television screen there. The television aired a comedy show with a high rating. But why can't the boy laugh? Why can't he laugh like he was with the man? Loud laughter that spilled their snacks together and made them hit the shoulders softly with each other.

The small boy decided to turn off the television. Turn it on but not fully focus on what is being shown, only waste electricity. Moreover, David said he would still send money until Renjun was able to pay for his own apartment. Even though the boy did not know why he was so good and when he could pay for the cost of his own apartment.

Renjun put the red mug on the reading chair on the side of the room. Then decided to return to his room..

Renjun stopped walking because he nudged something on the small table near the door of his room. He turned around, found a brown envelope containing something whose edges had been torn on the floor. Curious, he took the envelope and took it to the room.

What is this? The first money transfer from David?

Opened the envelope, found a cassette in it. He then remembers that Mark once had a CD player, the last time he left in his room because he forgot to bring it out. And if I'm not mistaken, Renjun keeps it under a pile of clothes.

He scratched his pile of clothes, hoping to find the object in question. And his struggle was not in vain, he found the blue CD player.

The tape was played, while waiting for the initial pause, he opened the letter in the envelope.

_Don't it you who told me?_

_That life is too short_

_So we don't have time to have doubts_

Renjun knows these opening words. These are the opening words of his song. what the ...

Read the attached letter, while listening to the song that was created. It says, that Renjun's song, age 17, was sent by Mark Lee, received by a record company and offered a debut.

Mark ..., do all this for him?

In the letter, there was a date for the meeting with the recording studio. And when Renjun saw his cellphone, that date was tomorrow's date. It's not too late to continue all this. Not yet.

Renjun felt his eyes heating up. And before long, tears returned.

"Thank you...," he whispered between his sobs. "Thank you very much..."

 

000

_(Rain Song's last verse)_

_Even if we say goodbye someday_

_I want to believe that we meet again_

_Under this rain and inside this cold water_

_And with your smile that'll warm the two of us_

 


End file.
